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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28699296">A Lingering Chill</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fwooshy/pseuds/fwooshy'>fwooshy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Clumsiness, First Kiss, Fog, Herbology Professor Neville Longbottom, M/M, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, satisfying word counts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:48:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>999</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28699296</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fwooshy/pseuds/fwooshy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It was embarrassing, the way Neville's childhood clumsiness still clung to his fingers, his ungainly body. He hated Draco for reminding him of it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Neville Longbottom/Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Lingering Chill</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you very much to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/parsley_sage_rosemary_and_thyme4tea">parsley_sage_rosemary_and_thyme4tea</a> for looking this over for me. 💛</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The dawn started grey and granted no deviance from the morning before. This time of year, Neville woke up damp and stayed damp the whole day, the mist clinging to him like an uncomfortable jumper, carelessly knit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the sort of weather with which Neville would accept a cup of tea from an irredeemable man such as Draco Malfoy, and have gratitude warm unwanted in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Won't seem to let up, this weather," Draco said. He wore a trim camel coat and slim white gloves as he stood and sipped his tea over Neville, bent between the greenhouse rows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sure doesn't," Neville agreed. Neville's cup levitated three feet away from him; close enough to reach, but not close enough for him to hit if he swung around without thinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was embarrassing, the way Neville's childhood clumsiness still clung to his fingers, his ungainly body. He hated Draco for reminding him of it. Draco, with his precise movements, his perfection. The way he'd become so calculating that Neville knew Draco meant every word he said, even if Neville couldn't figure out what Draco meant by it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neville looked down at the nettle prickling past his gloves and hated them too, hated the cautiousness he had to extend toward them, the way they tested his weaknesses. He couldn't stop thinking that Draco didn't really need the nettle for his first years, but that he'd requested them grown to intentionally torture Neville.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neville shook his head to clear it. Draco had changed; he was an alright professor, even if he'd never been shown the same affection from his students as Neville. Even if he was about as welcome as the stubborn fog, demanding careful dress and careful steps lest one tremble with a miserable, unrelenting chill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neville thought his tea must be growing cold, so he took off his gloves and reached for it. He could feel Draco watching him, and took extra care not to spill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How is it?" Draco asked. He'd taken a step closer to Neville, although he still loomed impossibly tall, so Neville had to crane his neck just to see Draco where he knelt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's perfect," Neville said, because it was. He was stupid to have been worried about it cooling. Draco had cast a warming charm over it, as any wizard would have done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neville levitated his cup away and turned to the nettle. But in his confusion, he neglected to pull back on his gloves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nettle stung instantly. Neville's fingers swelled to twice their size before he even realised he was screaming. He tried getting up from his knees, to run to a faucet, to Madam Pomfrey, to do anything to stop the pain. He wasn't thinking clearly at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the pain cleared from his mind, he saw that Draco was holding him down, sitting over his chest and applying a cool salve to his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thanks," Neville croaked, although he wasn't sure he was actually grateful. He hated that Draco had the salve ready on his person, as though he were waiting for Neville to screw up. It wasn't fair. If it wasn't for Draco distracting him, then he wouldn't have taken off the gloves in the first place. Then he wouldn't be in the dirt with tears in his eyes, like a child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neville shoved Draco off rougher than he probably should have if he was trying to hide his anger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're upset with me," Draco said, though he stood back up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neville stood too. From the new height, Neville could see that Draco's hair had gotten tangled in the tussle. Dirt was streaked along Draco's jaw, and on his coat, though Draco made no move to brush it off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not," Neville said, because he wasn't, anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But you were."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes," Neville agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why?" Draco's voice cracked. "Do you truly find it impossible to forgive me? I know I've done some reprehensible things, but I've </span>
  <em>
    <span>changed</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Surely you must see that. Even Harry, who—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We're cordial," Neville said, bewildered. He didn't think he'd ever seen Draco so out of sorts. And for what, even? Neville never got in the way of Draco. He backed Draco when his proposals were reasonable (which they often were), and on all fronts was a respectful and supportive colleague. So Draco had no reason to demand more from Neville unless he wanted to be more than fellow professors. To be something like friends. Which was impossible; Draco would never want to befriend such a clumsy, oafish man as Neville. Not when—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Won't you say something?" Draco asked. He had a hand clenched over his chest, and there was a foreign tremble to his lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm." Neville stammered. He bungled a few more words in his mouth before he found his footing. "We're different, alright?" he said. "It's not to do with the war at all. You're just—we're too different. You're, you know, perfect, and I'm just the same I was when I was twelve. So we'd never get along. It just doesn't make sense."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco took a step closer so that Neville could feel his breath. Neville's heart started going, though he stayed glued to the spot. Then Draco leaned in and bumped his nose against Neville's; going for a kiss, but fumbling because he'd closed his eyes. Neville wrapped an arm around Draco, steadying him before notching their lips together. His head was a blank fog of feeling, quiet though his heart kept running like it'd never stop again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco pulled away and apologised, red-faced. When he left, Neville pulled his gloves on and knelt back down. He knew Draco had meant to kiss him, though he couldn't explain why. He kept on thinking about the time a second-year had come crying to his office with her hair blown up and a botched potion soaked over her robes. She'd wept, "Professor Malfoy said if I don't do it perfectly, I shouldn't attempt it at all."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next day, it snowed.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! 💛 You can find me on <a href="https://fwooshy.dreamwidth.org/">dw</a> and <a href="https://fw00shy.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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